I Remember That
by ScrawledAcrossThePage
Summary: The Housewives all reflect on their lives and how they choose to live them.


**A/N: Dedicated to my good friend Lauren, who never ceases to inspire me or make me laugh! ^^ Enjoy! (it's 4 in the morning, and I can't sleep, so, sorry if this isn't exactly my best work!) **

_I Remember That_

She hadn't always felt beautiful.

She remembered when her step father had come into her room on that fateful evening, pulling her forcefully into his arms and pressing up against her, and how he had repeated to her over and over again just how beautiful she was. But she hadn't felt beautiful.

Now, years later, she felt beautiful. Her two children idolized her beauty; looking up to her for fashion advice. Both of them dreamed of someday being as glamorous as they thought their mother to be. She knew that Ana secretly looked at her as a role model when it came to modeling; after all, she had been a highly paid, highly successful model back in the day. Her husband constantly reminded her of this outer beauty with loving words and gestures.

And now, years later…she also sometimes felt selfish.

She felt selfish when she had only encouraged Carlos to hire Lynette because she had a devious ulterior motive. She felt selfish when she had gotten mad at Lynette for not telling her she was pregnant, and had said cruel and harsh words that she could now never take back. She felt selfish when she chose to go get a spa treatment rather than spend some quality time with her daughters. She felt selfish when she had ruthlessly grimaced at the mere thought of serving the "great unwashed" at the local soup kitchen.

And when Gaby thought of the selfish things she had done…she no longer felt beautiful.

She hadn't always felt perfect.

When Rex had felt the need to pay a despicable woman to crack him with a rider whip, she certainly hadn't felt perfect. Or when she was forced to send her son off to Camp Hennessey, a place for juvenile delinquents, she hadn't felt like she had lived up to "the perfect mother" image that she projected to everyone around her. She hadn't felt perfect when she came home to find her boyfriend had slept with that same delinquent son, proving to her that she had still not managed to fix him.

Now, years later, she felt perfect. She had a successful catering career, a handsome husband whom she had just reconciled with, and a son who was happily married and living in a house she had oh so generously purchased for the happy couple.

And now, years later…she also sometimes felt as if she were damaged goods.

Her husband had previously wanted to kill himself, unable to withstand living with her no longer. Her son, who lived right down the street in that house she had gave to him as a gift, never bothered to walk on over for even a short visit. Her daughter, for whom she had faked a pregnancy for nine months, had not spoken to her in over a year.

And when Bree thought of how everyone thought of her as someone they no longer wanted to affiliate themselves with…she no longer felt perfect.

She hadn't always felt in control.

When her mother had shown up drunk at her high school graduation, causing her and her sisters to be mortified in front of the entire student body, she hadn't felt in control. When she was diagnosed with Hodgkin's Lymphoma, and realized that she may never get to see her kids in their teenage years, going out on dates, getting their first cars, graduating from college, getting married…she hadn't felt in control.

Now, years later, she felt in control. When she was able to handle the bills, and the tax refunds, and cooking dinner all by herself, she felt in control. When she was the one providing the money for her family, she felt in control.

And now, years later…she also sometimes felt as if she was a bitch.

When she ordered Tom around, and told him what to wear and what to cook and how to do this and that, she felt like a bitch. When she sometimes made decisions without really considering his input of the situation, she felt like a bitch. And when she had mocked him for writing down all his feelings in a journal, she had later felt like a bitch for it.

And when Lynette thought of how she was sometimes a bitch…she no longer felt like she truly wanted to be in control.

She hadn't always felt confident of herself.

She hadn't felt confident when she had told Mike she no longer wanted to be with him after that night in the police station when she had discovered that he had been convicted for man slaughter and drug trafficking, since she knew she loved him. She hadn't felt confident when she had found lip stick somewhere it shouldn't have been, or after she slept with her ex and realized that he had yet to break up with Edie, now making her the other woman. She hadn't felt confident when she had called that divorce attorney a couple months after that accident that had changed so much.

Now, years later…she felt confident. Confident that her marriage would work this time around, and that she was a good mother, and that she was doing well at work.

And now, years later…she also felt as if she may just be kidding herself.

Her husband didn't find her pretty enough to engage in his fantasies; he had to ogle at girls swinging around a pole for that. She had to put her son in private school because he had been falling behind, and now he was in the slow math group, and she couldn't help but wonder…could it be because she hadn't raised him to reach his full level of potential? And as for work, well, just the other day she had started a riot among all the mothers of Oakridge Academy as some proudly boasted about how they had figured out their sons or daughters were in the smart group, while others loudly retorted that it was nonsense, and demanding to see the principal, causing her to nearly get fired.

And when Susan thought of how she may just be kidding herself…she suddenly didn't feel all that confident.

**A/N: Reviews, reviews, oh how I love you...(: And by the way, the title of this fic comes from episode 3x14 of Desperate Housewives! I'd also like to point out that this isn't necessarily how I feel about the housewives we've all come to know and love, it's about how I amagine _they _feel. (:**


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